


can't settle in this skin

by bravepress



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:53:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravepress/pseuds/bravepress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the boys get into an accident, and liam doesn't come away quite as unscathed as he'd like he others to believe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've ever written for the 1d fandom, and i hope it's alright. it's also hugely medically inaccurate, which is 100% my fault, and i'll go back in and fix that sooner or later. 
> 
> written for a gorgeous prompt at the angst meme.

There's a flash of light and his door caves in with a sickening crunch and for about thirty seconds Liam is completely disoriented. He's brought back to his senses when Zayn's voice cuts through the static in his head.  
  
"-up,  _c'mon_ , Nialler. Please, babes, wake up. Open your eyes-"  
  
Liam's hearing shorts out for a moment. He turns his head to get a better idea of what the fuck has happened inside the car.  
  
It's-  
  
well, it's pretty bad, he concedes. The side he and Harry were sitting on is crushed up against them, windows shattered. There's a cut running down the length of his arm, but it doesn't hurt. Bloody glass shards cover his lap.  
  
"Liam?" Zayn stares up at him. His glasses are cracked.  
  
He tries to nod but a wave of dizziness shuts that down quickly. "Yeah," he says, and his voice is sort of raw. "Yeah, are- are the boys okay? Is everyone alright?" There's a cut on Zayn's neck. He can't look away from it. It's dripping down onto his shirt, which is sort of disappointing because that had been Zayn's favorite shirt, and  
  
- _focus._  
  
He watches as Zayn cranes his neck to look at the front seat, then shakes his head. "I don't know. Niall's breathing, but I can't wake him up."  
  
"Haz?"  
  
"Louis' got him."  
  
And now that he's paying attention, Liam can hear it- Louis' voice, a little quieter than usual. It's soothing. But Liam needs Harry properly accounted for ( _daddy direction,_  his brain supplies), and he manages to push himself forward and lean his head against the side of Harry's seat. Something in his side twinges, but he pushes it  _down down down._  "Harry?"  
  
All he can see is a mass of curly hair. Louis' hand is pressed against it, and he can't decide if that's a good sign or not. Harry rolls his head to look at Liam. His eyes are red-rimmed and glassy.  
  
  
"I'm okay," Harry slurs. "It's just. My arm, it hurts."  
  
Louis brushes a hand across Harry's face, wiping tears from under his eyes. "Poor Haz. You're okay." Once Harry's breath is hitching a little less, Louis turns to Liam and Zayn. He doesn't seem terribly beat up, just a bruise across his cheek. His eyes are focused in a way that Liam is grateful for.  
  
"His arm's stuck, it got caught between the door and the seat," Louis says softly. "Niall's- fuck, Zayn, is Niall still out? We need an ambulance."

 

 

  
  
It's Zayn who makes the call, because he's the only one who can find his phone ("Yours hit me in the face, you curly-haired shit," says Louis in the mad dash to find a cell that isn't cracked or lost, and yeah, that explains the bruise). His voice is hushed when he gives the approximate address. Liam's pretty sure they're somewhere in California, and he can't think of anything but how much he wants to be home right now.  
  
There's a cough and a low whine from somewhere behind Liam, and his stomach drops (and  _hurts,_  why does it hurt?), but Zayn's already handling it. He climbs over the seat, and Liam sees that the side of his shirt is bloody as well.  
  
Louis turns back to look at them, at Niall, who's shivering but blearily awake. "Hey, Ni. It's okay. You're doing so well." After a moment Liam adds his voice to the quiet litany of comfort. Harry's scared again- he needs to see Niall, but can't turn around in his seat. Louis quiets him with a kiss.  
  
"Whass happened?" says Niall, barely understandable. He's cut his lip on his braces- there's blood running down his chin, and he's not trying to move. Zayn tries to wipe it off, but Niall whimpers quietly and closes his eyes again.  
  
"No, babes. Keep your eyes open- yeah, that's good. We've been in an accident, yeah? You hit your head."  
  
The ambulance really isn't getting here fast enough, in Liam's opinion. Before Zayn handed the phone off he'd said that it would be ten minutes, maybe, an Liam thinks that might be too long. Niall's eyes keep slipping shut, no matter how many times Zayn presses his fingers into the dip between his collarbones. He hears a soft cry from the front seat, thinks  _oh god, Harry_ , because there's an insistent thought at the back of his head about shock and blood loss and there might be seriously wrong and  _his stomach hurts,_  alright? But he's going to hold down the fort, because they've already fragmented into  _Haz &Lou_ and  _ZaynLiamNiall_ , and god knows they're stronger as One Direction than they ever will be individually.  
  
He breathes a sigh of relief when he hears the siren.


	2. ii.

The extrication is a blur of flashing lights. Zayn is still in the backseat with Niall, but clutches Liam's hand, and Liam thinks he might actually be scared. He's never seen Zayn's eyes this wide before.

They do end up out of the car, thank god. Liam's actually sort of grateful that Niall doesn't wake up while the paramedics are immobilizing his spine, because Niall's always been claustrophobic enough without also being strapped to a board. It's a bit harder to get Harry out. Once they've freed his arm, he curls in on himself, his other hand reaching out for Louis, and Liam feels peculiarly useless.

But for some reason Liam doesn't equate sirens with ambulances, _plural_ , and he doesn't realize until they've been cut out of the car and are being checked over by a fleet of very friendly paramedics that they're going to be separated. He grabs Zayn's phone and nods at him to ride with Niall, and nobody's getting between Harry and Louis.

"Honestly, I’m fine. It's just a scratch," he says firmly, pulling his arm away from the paramedic. He looks a bit like Paul, Liam thinks, and _fuck_ , management's going to be so angry. This is the last time they'll be allowed out without a driver, he's sure. "I'm fine." They won't leave him alone long enough to call anyone, and eventually he finds himself sitting in the passenger seat of an ambulance. He catches a glimpse of Harry being loaded into the second rig, arm barely visible under some sort of rigid plastic.

"Sir? Can you tell me your name?" asks the paramedic in the back. Plastic crinkles and there's a sharp whine.

"S'okay, Nialler. It's just a bandage," Zayn says easily. Liam can't see into the back and that's sort of terrifying. He settles for fisting his hands in the fabric of his trousers and tries to breathe steadily.

Niall's voice is so weak. "What's... what happened?"

"We've been in an accident, babes," says Zayn. "We're going to hospital."

The paramedic's voice cuts across Zayn's. "You hit your head pretty hard, Niall. Can you remember where you were driving?"

Niall makes that small, pained sound again. Liam's pretty sure there's nothing worse than sitting by while one of the boys hurts. "Don't- I don't know," he mumbles. "America?"

"California, remember?" prompts Zayn, and now there's a slight edge to his voice. "Today was our day off."

There's no noise, for a moment. Liam swallows hard, and finally-

"Y-yeah, okay. Head hurts."

"I know, babes. You're doing really well."

 

 

It takes Liam almost the entire drive to remember the phone clutched in his hands, and he glances back at Zayn and Niall before finally dialing Paul. He explains the accident, where the hospital is, that it wasn't Louis' fault, that Niall and Harry have it the worst. He manages to keep his voice steady. They pull into the ambulance bay and the front of the hospital looks immaculate, shiny with glass.

Liam isn't sure exactly what happens next (he's so _sore_ , but this must be normal, right? This is what happens when you've been crushed against a door. _This is why he should have worn a seat belt_ ), but Niall is carted off for x-rays and CT scans. Someone has called ahead to the hospital, so Liam and Zayn are placed in a private waiting area. Zayn's fingers are tight around his wrist, avoiding the neat little row of stitches on the top side of his arm. He hardly remembers the push-pull of the needle through his skin. He hadn’t let the doctor do much more than keep him from bleeding on the floor- how could he take time for himself, when he needed to make sure the others were taken care of?

Louis stumbles in a few moments later and Zayn looks up at him expectantly. He shakes his head and sits down, curling into Liam's side. "They wouldn't let me stay with him. This is awful."

Liam inhales sharply- Louis is pressing against the spot just below his ribs where he's the most sore. "Did they say anything? Is Haz alright?" He shifts to a better position and squeezes Louis' thigh.

"They're doing x-rays. I don't- like. He was really scared," says Louis, and he shivers. Zayn makes a sympathetic sound and reaches across to hold Louis' hand. " The doctor said he thought it was just broken."

"That's good, Lou," Liam says. "Niall's getting checked out now. The nurse said it looked like a concussion." He knows better than to leave Louis out of the loop when it comes to Niall. Right now he's trapped so tightly in Harry's orbit, wrapped in concern, but yeah- the look of relief on his face is obvious.

"We're gonna be okay, right?" Louis' voice is small. Zayn and Liam wrap him into a tight hug.


	3. iii.

It doesn’t take Paul long to find them; he immediately gives them a dressing down over their “apparent stupidity” (Zayn grins and mouths _well yeah_ ), then buries his nose in a newspaper.

Louis has already left a message for Harry’s mum, and is trying to get Niall’s parents on the line. He knows Anne will trust them to take care of Harry, but a concussion is a little more serious than broken bones and Louis figures Ms Horan should hear it from one of them instead of on a news station.

Nearly an hour passes before a doctor walks into their waiting room. The hospital’s overcrowded, she explains apologetically; otherwise they would have gotten a room with actual beds. Zayn waves her off.

“How are they?”

She purses her lips and glances at Paul. “Harry won’t need surgery. His right arm is broken in two places- his humerus and radius, right above and below his elbow. We’ve set the bone and we’re fitting him for a cast.”

Liam pulls Louis in for a cuddle. He pretends not to see Louis scrub a hand across his eyes. They’re all exhausted.

“A cast? For how long?”

“Eight weeks at the absolute least, due to the severity of the break. He’ll need to be careful onstage, and he’ll probably feel a little unbalanced. I have a prescription for painkillers ready for him at the pharmacy. We’ve already given him this afternoon’s dose, so he’ll probably want to sleep for most of the day. I’ll have him brought out to you when the cast is set.” She clears her throat. “As for Niall, we’ll need to keep him for a 24-hour observation period. It seems to be a moderate concussion.”

Zayn squeezes Liam’s free hand. He’s feeling a little light-headed. God, they’re all okay. He can’t get the image of Harry twisting in the passenger seat out of his head, of Niall with blood on his face. They’re okay.

“It’s just a precaution,” the doctor is saying when Liam tunes back in. “The x-rays and CT scan didn’t show any sign of fractures or bleeding.” Liam sort of wants to yell _let us take care of him we’ll take him home we’ll love him he’ll be fine_ , but he squashes that down and everyone nods.

“Once your friend’s cast has set I’ll take you to see Niall, if you’d like.”

 

 

Niall is quiet and small and pale against the blue sheets, so of course Zayn immediately crawls into bed next to him. Liam hangs back, helping Louis settle Harry into a chair.

“I feel so guilty,” Louis whispers. The bruise on his face is already turning purple. Liam wonders if there’s a way to get some ice on it before it gets worse.

“What- why would you feel guilty?”

Louis shrugs. “My fault, wasn’t it? I was driving. I should have seen the other car.”

"He came out of nowhere, Lou. It wasn't your fault," says Liam, a little incredulously. "I don't think anyone could have stopped it." Of course, there's a running commentary in his own mind about how it should have been him driving in the first place, or they should have gotten a driver, or any of a million other things that could have prevented this. He definitely understands how Louis might feel that he's to blame, even if he's really not.

Louis’ lips are a thin line. He looks down at Harry, who has curled his absurdly long legs up underneath him and is resting his head against Louis' thigh, asleep. His arm is cradled in a sling against his chest. Louis looks like he probably needs a moment to figure out that Liam’s right, that no one (especially the four of them) could possibly blame him for this, so Liam lets him be.

Niall asks something quiet, mouth pressed against Zayn's collarbone. Zayn's lips quirk into a smile.

"Harry’s fine. He’s here, he's asleep. Feel okay?"

Niall nods. "Dizzy. M'fine."

"Concussed, though, yeah?."

 

 

They're given a small room with beds- _actual beds!_ \- after visiting hours end, because the nurses say that only one of them is allowed to sleep in Niall's room no matter how politely Liam asks. Louis is already curled against Harry on the bed furthest from the door.

"Hey, Li." Zayn crowds him against the wall, almost holding him up, and _oh_. Liam has missed this, even though it's only been a few hours. "I'll stay with him, if you need to sleep."

Liam nods. He’s been sore and tired since they arrived at the hospital, but he’s really starting to feel it.

Zayn frowns. “Do you feel alright?”

The answer is no, obviously, he’s been in a car accident. But he nods and digs his fingertips into Zayn’s hips, because he’s not going to say there’s anything wrong when two of his boys are actually hurt.


	4. iv.

It's three a.m. and the clock on the wall is ticking and glowing white and Liam feels like he might never be able to breathe again.  
  
He thinks maybe he slept wrong- maybe he twisted something in his sleep, or knocked his elbow into his side, but it  _hurts._ He reaches blindly for Zayn, but his hand only touches cool sheets. Zayn’s with Niall, right. Okay. He can deal with this.  
  
The ticking clock is something he can ground himself with, so he does. He focuses on that, and not on the fact that he's in an empty bed and in too much pain to actually move. Louis is right there, across the room, and Liam knows that Louis would be there immediately if he could catch his breath to say something. He doesn't even need anyone to know something's wrong with him ( _he_ doesn't even know what's wrong with him), he just needs a body to hang onto while he rides this out. But Zayn isn't here, and Louis is currently doing a better job of tending to Harry than Liam could ever hope to, so he grits his teeth and hopes that he'll pass out before it gets worse.  
  
And it does pass, eventually. It takes far too long, in Liam's opinion, and he feels sick and feverish, but he curls up in a tight ball and gets a few hours of sleep.  


 

  
  
He wakes in the morning, confused and a little nauseous, to the sight of Harry holding a plate loaded with breakfast tacos.   
  
"Lou said you'd be hungry," he says, grinning. Other than the haphazard stitching behind his ear and the way he's a little unsteady on his feet, Harry looks remarkably better than he did yesterday.  
  
Liam swallows hard. He hasn't had anything since breakfast the other day, but his stomach is still doing that odd twinge-y thing from last night. "Has Zayn eaten anything?"  
  
It's so good to see him smiling again. "He wouldn't touch the tacos, but Niall talked him into having a bowl of cereal. I saw him finish it, I promise."  
  
So that's one thing taken care of. Liam tries to sit up and ends up doubled over, with Harry's hands on his shoulders. He’s dizzy again, apparently. He has a feeling this is going to be a problem.  
  
"I’m fine, Haz. Honestly," says Liam. He indulges Harry and manages to eat half a breakfast taco before he has to stop to breathe. It’s not even queasiness, now. It just hurts.  
  
Harry shrugs and says he's going to find Louis, and that they've only got a few more hours before Niall is released. The door slams shut and Liam barely makes it to the tiny bathroom before he's sick.  
  
He can deal with this. He’s totally fine. 

 

 

The trip back to the hotel isn’t easy for any of them except Niall, who sleeps through it. The doctor said he’d be sleeping a lot, for the next few days. The other four are unusually still. Liam can see Louis’ eyes squeeze shut every time they cross an intersection.

Liam keeps his head against the window and tries not to think about how much this feels like a failure. They hadn’t been allowed out alone as a group in so long, and they won’t be again. Louis and Zayn didn’t even get a good story out of it, just scars.

The hotel has garage parking, and they make it to their rooms relatively undisturbed. Harry hesitates for a moment before giving Liam his key.

“Are… you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Fine, I promise.” Liam waves it off like it’s not some kind of effort to keep from falling over when he takes his hand off the wall. Not like he’s going to let Harry know, anyway. He’s the baby of the group, and worrying about Liam isn’t something he needs to do. “Have Zayn and I got Niall, or…?”

“We do, tonight,” says Harry firmly. “You need to sleep. You really do look exhausted.”

“Oi, I’m meant to be the responsible one,” says Liam, and he hopes his voice doesn’t sound weak. “You should get back to Lou, or he’ll think you’ve fallen and died.”

Harry laughs, bright, and kisses Liam on the forehead. “Love you. Feel better, yeah?”

“I’m fine, Haz.” He smiles automatically. “Just sore.”

After Harry leaves and he stretches out on the bed, he wonders if that really is what’s wrong. He got banged up, a little, when he hit the back of Harry’s seat. There hasn’t been a free moment for him to look himself over, but Liam knows there’s a bruise on the left side of his ribs, where he’s the sorest. The dizziness is probably just some sort of residual shock, or blood loss, or something. He probably just felt sick because he was worried about the boys, right? Sure. Really, he has no idea, but it might go away if he ignores it for long enough.

_The kidney thing didn’t go away for years, did it?_

He pushes that thought down immediately. 


	5. v.

Liam turns down dinner, saying he's still tired and needs to sleep. Harry gives him that same careful glance, but doesn't say anything when he leaves for his room.  
  
Zayn must slide into bed behind him, at some point, because Liam wakes up with an arm around his waist and lips pressed to the back of his neck. The light is on. He feels worse, if that's even possible, but he rolls over to face Zayn and kiss him properly. It feels like it's been days since they've been able to do this, and it's easy, gentle.  
  
"Haz said you were feeling bad," says Zayn after he breaks away. "Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
 _Because I can't lie to you_ is what runs through Liam's head first. Zayn would have known, that night in the hospital. What actually comes out is a weak laugh. "I’m just a little banged up. You’re hurt worse than me, though, so don't worry about."  
  
Zayn pulls a face. "It’s not a contest, Li. I’m just concerned."  
  
"I know. Sorry." Liam runs his fingers along the stitches under Zayn's jaw. It’s so easy to touch the rest of them, especially Zayn, now that he knows he's allowed. Laying still like this is helping with the dizziness, and even though the bed feels a little empty without Niall crowded between them, it's okay. Zayn shifts so that Liam is underneath him, and the room spins enough that Liam has to close his eyes. He swallows hard. So much for helping.  
  
"You look a bit sick, Li," says Zayn. His voice is so slow and warm that Liam wants to fall asleep in it. He nods, a little helplessly.  
  
Zayn makes a small sympathetic sound, and Liam is so in love with this boy. "Bathroom, do you think?"  
  
Liam shakes his head slightly, fighting down a wave of nausea. "I’m okay," he says once he can talk again. "Just felt a little weird for a second. I’m fine."  
  
"Well. Alright, I guess." Zayn stretches an arm around Liam's waist, rubbing circles over his stomach. Liam is almost-  _almost_ too out of it to feel where Zayn's arm is pressed against the ache in his side, but he lets out a stupid little gasp and curls closer into him. Zayn frowns.  
  
"Did I hurt you?"  
  
The word  _no_ sticks in Liam’s throat, so he shakes his head again and tightens his grip on Zayn's wrist. His breath eventually steadies out. The dizziness passes. He thinks he might talk to one of the boys about this in the morning.  
  


 

  
  
He wakes up a little disgruntled at the fact that it's still the middle of the night, and wonders if this is going to be a regular thing. Then Liam realizes what's woken him up, and everything just sort of stops.  
  
He manages to unclench his muscles and pull in a shocked breath. "Zayn- oh my god." Liam twists his hands in what feels like Zayn's sleep shirt and tries not to move. "Wake up wake up  _please-_ "  
  
it's like the words are being punched out of him. He feels completely out of control and completely terrified and  _what the fuck is wrong with him._ Nothing has ever hurt like this before. Everything is localized to his left side, right under his ribs. He can't breathe.  
  
Zayn sits bolt upright next to him, rubs at his eyes. "What’s- Liam? What wrong?"  
  
He chokes out "it  _hurts_ " before something rises up in his throat and Zayn's eyes widen almost comically. He’s pushed toward the edge of the bed. He curls in on himself and coughs, acid flooding his mouth.  
  
"Ssh, babes, you're okay," says Zayn. There’s a note of panic in his voice. "You’re okay. Do you want me to get the boys?"  
  
Liam finishes up with a quiet sob. He doesn't want anything other than for this to be over. “I don't. Oh, god. I can't, I can't do this."  
  
The look Zayn is giving him frightens Liam. He knows he must look awful, and actually can't focus enough to feel bad for taking attention away from Niall and Harry the way he normally would. It’s only been a day since they left the hospital. They don't need him getting sick, or whatever this is, on top of that. But there's something really, really wrong. "Maybe a trip to emergencies, yeah?" says Zayn.  
  
"Please make it stop. Zayn, please." His voice cuts out when the pain hits him again. Zayn is holding him up, he's pretty sure, because otherwise he'd be curled in a ball on the bed. " _Please."_  
  
It’s not even light outside yet. Zayn calls an ambulance and then calls Paul, his voice quick and tense. Liam feels the phone drop on the sheets next to him.  
  
"Hey, it's okay. It’ll be just a second, babes, you'll be fine."  
  
Liam squeezes his eyes shut and feels Zayn drop kisses on his hair and this is the last thing he feels, for a little while. It’s too much. It’s just too much.  


 

  
  
  
It feels like all he does lately is wake up in uncomfortable positions, and yeah- Liam wakes up to the smell of disinfectant and a sharp, clean pain in his stomach. He turns his head. Hospital. That makes sense, he supposes.  
  
It’s just Louis in the room with him, which is sort of surprising but not at all upsetting. He does his best to say hello, but can barely mumble around the dryness in his throat. Louis still hears him, of course, and wakes up with a full-body jerk.  
  
"Welcome back," he says after a moment. Liam starts to smile, but Louis cuts him off with a loud "you absolute  _twat._ You didn't say there was anything wrong, Li. You're a fucking idiot, I swear." He does call a nurse and give Liam a drink of water, after a solid and lengthy rant, so Liam can't complain too much.  
  
"Zayn's getting coffee, or he'd be here. He’ll be pissed you woke up while he was gone."  
  
The nurse shows up and checks the bandage on his stomach, shows him the little drainage tube. She says a lot about blunt-trauma pancreatitis and delayed onsets and something about surgery, which Liam wasn't actually expecting. He hopes Louis is paying attention, because he doesn't think he's capable of it quite yet. Maybe the nurse will think to write it down for him.  
  
True to his word, Zayn walks back in just after the nurse leaves. Louis brushes a hand across his shoulder and smiles slightly. "I’ll go find Harry, then."  
  
He sets the coffee down on the table beside Liam's bed. The muscles in his jaw are twitching under his skin.  
  
"Sorry. I should have said-"  
  
"Fuck, Li," spits Zayn, and he looks like he might actually cry. "You can't do that again."  
  
"I’m sorry, I know. I won't."  
  
"I had to call an ambulance, I didn't know what to do. Harry was so scared."  
  
"Okay, I won't. I'll tell you. I'll always tell you," mumbles Liam, because he doesn't want Zayn too look at him that way anymore. "I'm sorry."  
  
Zayn lets out a shaky breath. "You’ll be okay. Why didn't you say anything?"  
  
"I didn't want you to worry. Thought I was okay, but apparently..." Liam grimaces.  
  
"The paramedics, they pulled up your shirt when they were looking you over. Your side was almost black, Liam, what the  _fuck."_  
  
"I won't do it again, okay? I’ll tell you." he's not sure there's anything else he can say. Zayn drops his forehead onto Liam's.   
  
The heart monitor beats in the background, steady and strong. His boys are in the room and outside the door and everything’s actually going to be fine. Liam squeezes Zayn's hand and smiles. Everything’s going to be fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um. i really wasn't expecting to receive any feedback at all on this, but you've all been really lovely. 
> 
> the epilogue's up now as well.


	6. vi.

“Pancreas, you invalid,” says Louis primly. It sits in an awkward sort of opposition from the way Louis used to push shots toward him no matter how often he said no, that he wasn’t drinking, that it was _a medical condition, Louis, can you not do that._

“You don’t have to treat me like glass,” Liam snaps. This is the third time tonight someone’s pulled a cup out of his hand and replaced it with a clammy water bottle. He’s not even going to think about the guilty little twinge starting up in his chest. He doesn’t need—he’s fine. He is. Everyone’s doing better, now. And besides, it’s sort of unfair that’s he’s got very drunk Louis and strict instructions to avoid alcoholic beverages. They’re all being very sweet about it, of course, but being with the boys when they’re drunk is very different from being drunk with the boys.

Zayn kisses his cheek. “Let’s avoid things that might kill you, Li.”

 

 

Things progress pretty quickly, once Zayn breaks out the tequila. Louis pulls away from where he’s pressed against Niall, teeth on the side of his neck. Liam can barely make out the bruise now, but by tomorrow morning it’ll be purple and sore and god is he glad they’re on break.  Harry takes his places in a matter of seconds, and Liam’s not complaining about the view, but Louis slides into his lap and puts a stop to any other thoughts. Kissing Louis is generally an experience in itself—he gets a little _bite-y,_ especially when he’s getting really into it, in a way that Liam tends to be completely unprepared for. But yeah, alright. Louis licks into his mouth, quick and filthy, slides a cheeky hand up his shirt. Liam feels him trace over the scar on his side. They’ve all started to do it, like some sort of grounding ritual to ensure that Liam is still _okay_ and _alive_ and _theirs._

And he is.

“Zayn wants you tonight,” whispers Louis. “He’s being very shellfish— _selfish,_ fuck. Selfish. M’ not drunk.” He’s pouting, and Liam shouldn’t be laughing, but honestly. Louis rolls over and buries his face against Zayn’s thigh. “Damn it, I was going for sexy. It was going to be a very sexy handoff.”

“You tried, babe.” Zayn rolls him off the sofa and pulls Liam closer, up so they’re nearly chest to chest.

“Just if you want, it” says Zayn, suddenly serious. “We don’t have to. I don’t—we can wait.”

And it’s just—this would be the first time since the accident, since having surgery. They’ve been so careful around him, and he misses it, sometimes, the way things had been before. He knows they love him, but a little switch in his brain seems to flip every time someone says anything about the fact that he got hurt, and badly. He doesn’t want to feel guilty about it. He doesn’t seem to have much of a choice. Liam’s meant to take care of them, after all, as they obviously can’t take care of themselves.

After a moment or two of frantically attempting to fit all of those thoughts into a cohesive sentence (something other than _I love you_ or _would you please hurry up and fuck me_ ), Liam gives up and just touches him for a moment, one hand splayed against Zayn’s hip and another on the side of his neck. It takes the pressure off, the idea of it just being him and Zayn. Makes it a little easier to deal with, maybe.

A quiet little _aww_ goes up from the other sofa. Zayn flips them off and leads Liam toward the bedroom.

 

 

The door is half-open behind them. The lamp in the corner lights the room haphazardly, leaving Zayn’s face barely illuminated. He looks like a painting—well. He’s always looked like some kind of art, but this feels more significant. Zayn’s always been better than anyone else at piecing him back together.

“Let me make you feel good.”

It comes out as a question. His voice is like—like cotton candy, maybe, or one of Harry’s shirts right out of the wash. It feels like home, sweet and soft.

Liam nods, of course, and it’s skin on skin again, finally, spread out on the bed while Zayn takes him down and apart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently i was wrong about being finished with this. here is the epilogue and all of my dignity.


End file.
